


Gaol and Release

by ADashOfStarshine (ADashOfInsanity)



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-11
Updated: 2012-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-18 10:35:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADashOfInsanity/pseuds/ADashOfStarshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not even kings are perfect, they're only human after all. As Eirika's wedding draws closer and the King of Jehanna gives him a rather surprising spoil of combat, Ephraim becomes very aware that his once heroic morals have started to slip. It shouldn't be a problem though, it's a very well hidden taboo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gaol and Release

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Raphiael](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raphiael/gifts).



> Warnings for implied sexual themes and disturbing content - namely the manipulation of someone who is made forcibly ill.

The horse's hooves clipped against the cobblestone path as it made its way through the pouring rain. As the sky grew ever darker, thunder echoed threateningly overheard promising that the rumbling storm was coming ever closer. The horse was seemingly not bothered by the unfavourable conditions. Then again, how was it to know it had become the transportation for dealings that would cause half a continent to stand at arms? There would surely be outrage if such a secret was unearthed from its location. The location itself had never been kept secret. However, as was the tendency with old lone buildings, it had become so commonplace that it was easily over-looked. There lied its best deception. It was so rarely used but so easily tolerated that none sought to question whether there would be a more helpful use of the small building. So it still stood, holding the most easily kept taboo in Renais.

What was rather remarkable was that no one had noticed the guards. Trusted companions of the young King had been posted outside this seemingly-unremarkable building. That should of course rouse some suspicion. Yet nothing had been noted amiss so far. The knights went about on their rota, taking it in turns to guard the single location before going about their business as usual. Not one said a word of complaint or a mention of intrigue to anyone not included in their schedules. Only they had been informed of their King's nightly pursuits, and they would not confess them for gain or gold. 

They were the personal friends of the King after all. They had seen him through his princedom into a sudden inevitability that had elevated him to the career he had once shunned. They had been trusted enough to know what had even been hidden even from the King's own dear sister and had been sworn not report this deviation to their liege-Lady. They lived to serve their king on the battlefield and in peacetime. It was plain to their trained eyes that the young King needed this nightly truancy. To keep himself focussed by day he had to make these dalliances by night and their job was to make sure he could repeat these encounters. It wasn't a particularly challenging job anyway. The prisoner wasn't making any attempts to strain at his bars and the watch duty had turned into more of a chance to converse and relax than stand warily at attention.

Not dissuaded by the ever-mounting storm, King Ephraim touched the ground, cloak rippling fluidly behind him as he battled the elements. His horse was led away by Franz, who seemed eager for the shelter of the nearby stable. He nodded as he entered the sheltered doorway of the small cottage, letting his friends know that they weren't required to stay here throughout this awful weather. He was thanked heartily as the two brothers made their way back towards the castle.

Ignoring the chipped title of 'Gamekeeper's Residence' that had been carved into the wood before him, Ephraim unlocked the front door and entered into the lukewarm interior of the small house. He paused, locking the door firmly behind him and stowing the key away discretely in case of prying eyes. It was an unnecessary precaution. Never had the prisoner been waiting for him at the door, never had he even greeted the King when he entered. Ephraim was used to this however; it had become the routine of the last few months, no greetings, no farewells, the focus was on the visit itself. As it should be, though not how it was intended.

"Heads, I just give him to you. Tails, we open negotiations. You never know I might be generous and throw some undead generals in as a bonus."

That was how it had started. It was almost funny how the first of them to marry was also the most insufferable. When Ephraim had asked why the King of Jehanna was so keen to give their most high-profile prisoner over the answer he'd received was an infuriating one:

"Well, I've learnt from experience it's the most surprising wedding presents that are the best. I heard there was a royal wedding going on in this neck of the woods so I came over to give the best man a little assistance."

Ephraim had merely ground his teeth and demanded that the coin be flipped. He hadn't needed a reminder of his sister's upcoming marriage right there and then and in all honesty he didn't need one at the present time either. He knew he had no choice in the matter of the actual event but he didn't like to see so much evidence that his sister would soon have a man in her life would be more important to her than him. The wedding was in two month's time! Why were there cooks and dress-makers in their audience hall already?

However the wedding provided just the excuse he needed to keep their new prisoner hidden from Eirika. He had persuaded himself that Joshua was indeed right. He now had the perfect wedding present for his sister and therefore had to keep him away from Eirika as much as possible so not to ruin the surprise. It was only logical therefore that he kept his gift all to himself for now and of course there was no point giving a broken gift so he had to go and check on him every night to make sure Eirika would still want him.

He was lying to himself, and Ephraim knew it.

He entered the bedroom of the small cottage and found his prisoner lying on the bed, curled up on his side whilst reading a book. Books of fiction were allowed; they were harmless and stopped Lyon thinking about escaping. There was little doubt that he had nothing to do whilst he was in the Jehannan dungeons or surrounded by the darkness of the ruins, but Ephraim made sure he lived somewhat comfortably. The King was pleased to see Lyon had taken to wearing the new violet tunic he had acquired for him. His excuse had been that robes were too easily used to hide weapons in. However the real reason he had confiscated Lyon's usual attire was pure curiosity. He wanted to see Lyon without his usual concealing garb. The result of this wardrobe change was a much smaller more vulnerable looking individual that had been rather unsettling at first but Ephraim had slowly grown to like this new appearance. If Lyon was more vulnerable than he would need more looking after… and therefore Ephraim could look after him more! Well, that was his current reasoning anyway though he knew perfectly well that give the man a tome and he wouldn't require that much assistance.

Ephraim approached the bed and sat on the end, taking off his cloak and boots and hanging them to dry on a chair. He turned to face his literary-minded companion.

"How are you?"

Lyon let out a soft noise that sounded like an indistinct mumble. He seldom made a recognisable noise and even rarer was the chance that he would actually speak. It took a great deal to make him look at Ephraim or to say his captor's name, two things Ephraim had come to want above all. Luckily for him he was prepared to do a great deal to Lyon to make him do both those actions, often simultaneously.

"Lyon," Ephraim reminded him, his tone firm. Lyon shuffled round on the bed and sat beside the expectant King, still holding tightly onto his novel of the day. With a sigh, Ephraim put an arm round the skinny man and lifted the book clean out of his hands before tossing it onto the floor beside the bed. Lyon still didn't speak or look at him. He had decided his now-empty hands were much more interesting than the man who was supposed to be his friend. Ephraim scowled and grabbed him by the chin, forcing him to look round.

There was nothing in those eyes.

In a way this was both a blessing and a curse. The blessing was that there was no evil intent lurking in that violet glassiness…but then again neither was anything else. They would not remain blank for long though. Ephraim was a determined man. He wanted his friend to return. He had failed the first time and he could not accept that outcome. Especially not now he had the person he had tried to save hidden away for him in the castle grounds. He would use any means to get back the Lyon he wanted…and if his captive was made learn a few extra 'skills' on the way, then all the better for Ephraim! In this house there was no throne, no titles, and no constricting rules. Just himself, Lyon, and the storm that had secured their complete privacy – it was a perfect chance for him to get his friend to say something.

The first step was to strike him where it hurt most and get some much needed groaning time in.

"Eirika spent today looking at samples from florists," he commented, "It's been a living nightmare with all this fussing about. She and her damn husband took half an hour looking at doilies…half an hour looking at table decorations! I mean I know she's inviting all our war comrades but still…it's maddening to no end. Would they really care exactly how precisely their tables were set out?"

Lyon of course did not answer. His hands must be incredibly interesting if he could stare at them for so long.

"And to think in the next few years I might have to go through all that again. I suppose I could trim it down a bit, it would be my wedding…depends what my future wife would want. Would she…" Ephraim stopped talking and began to smirk as he realised he had received a reaction from Lyon. He had shaken his head.

"No?" the King questioned, "You object to my marriage plans?"

Lyon shook his head again. It was a tiny motion; if Ephraim hadn't been deliberately looking for it he was sure to have missed it.

"You think I'm not going to marry?" Ephraim tried again. Lyon did nothing so Ephraim took that as a yes.

"I don't see why I couldn't. Eirika's found her most important person, maybe I should search out mine. There's nothing stopping me marrying whoever I want."

One of Lyon's hands had clenched, it was the biggest reaction Ephraim had received so far from him and he wasn't quite sure what it meant. Well, he could think of one objection related to Lyon that might cause a riff in his potential marriage

"A wife won't stop me," he scoffed, hoping his laughter would agitate his companion into speaking, "So I can come and see you anytime, I've already proved that I can keep you quite the secret. No one needs to know what's been going on here."

Lyon shook his head again and now Ephraim was utterly stumped. Shaking your head meant no. That was what normal people used the gesture for. So what new meaning had Lyon come up with that meant he had to shake his head at everything?

"Why don't you just say what you mean?" Ephraim demanded of him, losing patience. It wasn't as if he couldn't get Lyon to speak for him later and it wasn't as if it wasn't wonderful to hear his name off those lips. If he was lucky he may even get the l-word out of him. However Ephraim was determined to get something more this evening, perhaps it was impatience, perhaps it was the stress of seeing wedding reminders traipsing through the castle all day, but he wasn't going to let his ability to cope with stress today go unrewarded. He wanted Lyon to talk without any physical prompting.

"Just say something," he ordered, "Or is there something inside you that's controlling your tongue?"

Lyon mumbled something, shifting slightly, his hands now gripping the sheets. Ephraim was sure he had heard something in that mumble, a definite word, he was sure of it! And that word? He was certain Lyon had said something involving the word 'escape'.

He scoffed.

"Don't think there's any chance of you escaping," he laughed, "You haven't even tried so far so don't think you can go and hide in some new corner where nobody can find you. I've lost you once and you're less intelligent than I thought if you think I'm going to let you go again. You're not escaping, neither us can. We have no chance of changing what has happened because we've now got roles and we have to stick to them by law!"

His tone has risen as he had spoken, getting progressively more severe as he continued on berating the man beside him.

"I hope you're happy," he continued, his grip on Lyon's face tightening, aware that he would probably bruise him if not careful, "This is what you did. You ruined the continent and even the survivors are suffering for it. If I wasn't back here for Eirika's god damn wedding I would be trying to fix the country you were supposed to be saving. Now I get to see her after all this time and I'm only going to lose her again because she now has a husband! You did this! You trapped us both so neither of us can be free, so don't start talking about an escape when neither of us should even dream of it!"

Lyon continued to stare at him blankly and Ephraim had the sinking feeling that he had just put words into his ex-friend's mouth. Lyon hadn't said anything about escape at all, all Ephraim had done was interpret his murmuring for his own purposes so he could rant. He frowned and pulled Lyon closer to him with such ease it was if he was merely a doll made of rags.

"And you won't even talk!" Ephraim's voice rose to a shout yet Lyon did nothing. Not a shake of the head not even an indistinguishable mumble.

"What kind of lousy wedding present are you going to be if you can't even make a noise when not…!" His exclamation tailed off as reality resurfaced.

"You're not Eirika's wedding present," he growled, still very much enraged, "You're mine. You can't go a day without being in my possession."

Lyon remained still and silent so Ephraim pushed him away and got to his feet.

"Is there anything to drink in this god damn place?" Of course he received no reply so he merely strode off towards the kitchen. He wasn't gone very long, he didn't intended to actually drink anything himself however he had been left to resort to his usual way to coax any sort of sound out of his once-friend. Lyon didn't seem to cope very well with food or water these days, it was if his body just didn't know how to treat them. He ate a little and drank significantly more, but the effect was always severe stomach pains, headaches and dizziness. That was what Ephraim was after. It got Lyon speaking and then that led to so much more when the pain subsided.

When he returned with a cup of milk he found Lyon had settled back on his bed with the book. He scowled, set the cup down, strode over to rip the book from Lyon's hands and proceeded to throw it against the nearest wall. It landed with a dull thump and a few of the pages scattered across the moth-eaten carpet. Lyon didn't even move, his gaze merely lifted upwards to stare at Ephraim, there wasn't even a question in that blankness. Well, they wouldn't be blank much longer.

"Sit up," Ephraim ordered, he didn't bother to wait and pulled Lyon up himself.

"Drink." Once again he didn't wait for a response; he pushed the wooden cup against Lyon's lips and waited them to open. When Lyon did nothing, Ephraim grabbed his jaw again and gripped it tightly until Lyon gave in and parted his lips just a fraction.

It didn't take very long after Lyon had drank for the stomach problems to kick in. Lyon made a small groaning sensation and fell onto his side, lying on the bed. Ephraim picked him up and placed him in his lap as Lyon wrapped his arms round his own midriff and gave another discontented groan.

"It's alright," Ephraim smiled and gently drew him closer, "I'm here, and you know that."  
Lyon whimpered as he screwed his eyes shut, he looked like he was in quite considerable pain. Ephraim drew him into his arms, positioning him so Lyon's head rested on his shoulder in what could only be called a gentle and considerate manner.

"It'll get better," Ephraim assured as Lyon buried his face in his tunic and whimpered again, "I'll care for you until it gets better, don't you worry."

The gurgling Ephraim could hear from Lyon's stomach sounded painful. Lyon's hands were gripping Ephraim's tunic so tightly Ephraim feared that he may pop one of the buttons with the strain put upon the fabric.

"Ephraim…"

Success!

"It's alright Lyon, it'll get better. It always does."

"Ephraim…"

"Yes?"

He got no reply but judging by the expression of discomfort he was giving, Ephraim couldn't blame him for once.

"It won't be like this for long," he promised, "I'll care for you until its better, you know that."

Lyon looked up at him and whether or not he was seeing what he wanted to see, Ephraim was sure he saw something accusatory in that blank stare. It was so easy to ignore the fact he had deliberately made Lyon sick however it apparently wasn't quite so simple for Lyon. He sighed as Lyon's whimpers subsided. Lyon seemed to have sunken back into silence once more and Ephraim knew he had move on if he was going to get any more noises out of him.  
Not entirely sure whether Lyon's stomach ache had subsided or not, he decided to return to his preferred caring role.

"I know what will make you feel better," he said, as if suddenly struck by an idea, "You need to relax. Why don't you take your tunic off and have a lie down?"

"Ephraim…"

Success again - though he would like some progress from now on. The next step was to make him say something in addition to his name.

"Yes Lyon?"

They had a silent one-sided staring contest which ended rather swiftly. Lyon didn't seem to need to blink anymore yet Ephraim wasn't ready to push his limits in trying to keep up with him. He picked up Lyon and placed him further up the bed before pushing him down onto his back.

"You keep speaking and there will be no more drink," he stated as if giving instructions, his voice slow and clear, "You speak and I won't keep pulling you around like this. You speak to me when I want you to and I'll give you a choice whether you want to do this when I visit. Not that you've ever protested but every choice is a freedom is it not?"

Lyon didn't protest. He didn't say anything. Whether he was planning an accusatory silent protest or simply fallen back into near muteness again, Ephraim didn't know, but now they it was most definitely getting to that point in the night where he could use other means to get what he wanted so badly. One last attempt though wouldn't hurt.

"I guess you like being locked up here with me then don't you?" he taunted as his agitation turned to a great sense of satisfaction, "Bet you love having all this private time alone with me. That's why you're not saying anything. You haven't got any protests. You love it. You love me."

When his goading proved inconsequential, he decided that was the final straw. He got to his feet and strode round the room, closing the curtains despite the absence of the guards but also locking the bedroom door even though they were the only occupants of the house. When he returned, Lyon was in exactly the position Ephraim had left him in. In the end his compliance only made things easier and less morally questionable, well at least Ephraim thought so.

If in the end he did decide to give Lyon up to Eirika as her wedding gift… well, at least Lyon had been of some use first. It was this part of the day that made Kingship seem gloriously meaningless.


End file.
